Goodbye, My Almost Lover
by four51
Summary: RT: AU. Rory has a big stutter, and Tristan makes fun of her. When he starts to get to know her, will he be intrigued by the mystery of Rory Hayden? Rated T for language.
1. Hello, Goodbye

**Goodbye, My Almost Lover**

**Chapter 1. **Hello, Goodbye

"… I-I-I'm coming!" I shouted at him.

Well, tried to shout. When I shout, it comes out like I'm frustrated at myself, not others.

And I am, half of the time. It's like I can hardly get a word out of my mouth.

I blow dried my hair and walked down the steps. I took out my pad of paper and pen.

I wrote : **What's for breakfast?**

"Chocolate chip pancakes." Then he set a plate in front of me.

I smiled at my brother and wrote : **You remembered.**

"Your favorite food? Of course. I thought I'd give you a little boost for your first day."

I wrote : **It's your first day, too. Where's your uniform?**

"I thought I'd get ready in the nick of time. What'd'ya think?"

I shook my head, smiling only slightly.

He sighed heavily. "Fine. I'll go change. Just wanted to make a good breakfast for _you_. Gosh…"

I laughed as he walked past me and I nudged him to move faster.

I shoved the breakfast down my throat quickly, noticing the time.

I opened up my mouth to yell, but it didn't come out. After I pushed my voice to speak, it came out a high-pitched scream. "… Embry!"

I heard a shout from upstairs. "All right! I'm on my way down!"

I gave him a look on his attire and made a move to fix his tie. He shoved my hand away and fixed it up himself.

We walked out to my red BMW. A gift for my 16th birthday, a year back.

I don't really like it. Too much like… I'm trying to fit in.

I know and _they_ know that I'll never fit in. I'll always be made fun of. I have absolutely no chance with the popular crowd.

Dad gets mad sometimes. He says that he doesn't see what the big problem is. _He_ was the 'big guy on campus' when he was my age. Why can't I be?

I don't know. Maybe because I have a stutter the size of the _sun_? And that I can hardly talk to him, much rather a room full of thirty people?

I just keep quiet though, and told Embry to not make an argument. There's no one to make him stop. I certainly can't shut him up.

And why bother?

He just can't handle that his little girl will never gain friends.

That's all there is to it.

I muttered under my breath. "They're p-probably going to… make fun of m-me this year, too."

He sighed and grabbed my hand, sympathetically. "I'll ward 'em off. Just like I did last year."

I smiled, remembering. "T-they didn't think y-you were a freshm-man," I told him.

"Just imagine what they'd think of this sophomore now," he said, pointing to himself and then grabbing his bicep. "I've been working out all summer!"

We laughed.

As we entered the school parking lot, I had a pretty easy time finding a space to put my car. There was a spot three rows back and it was near the entrance. Also, easy exit after the final bell rang.

But when I tried to park there, a car came out of nowhere and slid into it.

A girl stood on the passenger seat, making it easier to talk to me.

"Hey! The handicapped spots are over _there_," she said, pointing to the spaces with blue paint on them.

I clenched my jaw.

I saw Embry make a move, but I held him back. "T-this is not your b-business, Embry."

I didn't take my eyes off her.

I was _not_ handicapped, I wanted to say.

But my throat closed in and when I tried to get it out, I knew I looked like an idiot.

They all laughed.

The popular kids. Oh, yeah. I could hang out with _them _at lunch.

Maybe in my former life.

I drove around again, and waited for them to leave to park next to their car.

I memorized their license plate so I could avoid other situations. **TJD2003** then it had a sign of some sort.

I knew what that sign meant.

He was one of the privileged few that could park his car pretty much wherever he wanted and the law-enforcers would look the other way.

Lucky bastards.

As I walk into the school, I took a deep breath. Anxiety.

"You're going to be fine. Maybe this year isn't going to _be_ the same," he tried to cheer me up, before going off by himself to find his own classes and friends.

On the contrary, this year was not going to be much different. I was going to be made fun of again. I was still going to sit by myself all of the time. I was going to be put on the spot by teachers.

That's the funny thing about professors. They know I can't talk very well. They _know_. But still, they don't take my answer written down on paper. They want to hear it out loud. That's the most embarrassing moments of the day. That also gives other people the chance to probe and see for themselves that I can't get a word out before clenching my throat and stammering.

I ran into someone.

I made a little noise on impact.

It was **TJD**. Great.

"S-s-sorry," I got out. "I-I wasn't l-looking."

He nodded, probably too intrigued with my 'disability.'

"No problem," he answered.

All I wanted to do was hide my face and get away.

But he grabbed my arm as I tried to walk past.

"What's your name?"

I looked up in his eyes. I knew better than to answer. He just wanted to hear me.

But I did anyway.

My throat clenched, but I managed to get it out. "… R-rory."

"Tristan," he introduced himself.

"I-I know who y-you are." I meant to sound harsher, but it didn't come out that way.

I bowed my head in embarrassment of how I couldn't say a sentence without breaking up.

"I'm sorry about Katy. She can be a little mean."

I nodded. "I-I'm not h-handicapped."

"I know."

I looked in his eyes again. Why was he being so nice to me?

"What's your first class?"

I handed him my schedule.

"I have first, second, fourth, and sixth with you."

"… Awesome." I knew that came out like I wanted it to.

"See you later, then."

And he walked away.

My eyes followed him to his friends. I saw the girl from the car, Katy, point to me. Then everybody laughed. Tristan did, too.

I get this all the time, I guess. People using me for my sick jokes.

But it still hurt.

I walked around, creating routes to all my classes.

When the bell rang, I entered my first class and I took a seat third row back, by the window.

People walk in and take their seats. I saw him strut in like he owned the place.

He _did_, of course. He manipulated everything to be in his favor.

I knew his kind.

He was King of the school's social hierarchy.

He sat right behind me.

He nodded a hello.

Jerk.

When the second bell rang, the teacher started talking about the rules of the classroom.

I tuned her out. Who needs to hear the same speech six times on the first day, for twelve years?

No one, that's who.

Right then, a folded piece of paper slid over my shoulder and fell to my lap.

I opened it.

_Boring, isn't it?_

I rolled my eyes.

I wrote : **How do you know I'm not listening?**

I tossed it back and in no time, it was over my shoulder again.

_Tristan DuGrey knows everything._

**Well, then you know that I don't really want to talk to you.**

_Why's that?_

I sighed audibly. **I thought you knew everything.**

_Enlighten me. _

I didn't know what to tell him.

But lucky for me, the bell rang right when I was in the middle of debating with myself.

Unfortunately, he blocked my path as I tried to get out of the room.

My throat closed up as I tried to speak, "… C-c-can you… move?" I bowed my head in embarrassment and closed my eyes.

"You didn't answer me."

"… Y-y-y," I took a deep breath, trying so hard, "You're de-deductive skills are imp-pecable. S-summer had no… toll on you, d-d-did it?"

"What's with the hostility?"

He actually caught it. Impressive, considering the millions of pauses and breaks.

I took another breath. "I have… f-feelings, Tristan," I spat.

Then I shoved the note we had written in his chest.

"Your f-friends'll have a… _kick_ out of that. M-maybe they can… talk about how my p-p-penmanship sucks, too. T-then, you'll… joke about h-how I have _no_ c-communication."

He looked at me questioningly, and then said, "I didn't think you heard."

"It s-shouldn't have… m-m-mattered if I did or not."

Then I walked around him and to my next class.

Unfortunately, he followed.

"Let me hold your books," he shouted behind me, trying to run up to my speed.

"… No, thank you."

"I'm going to catch up to you when we get to Johnson's class. You might as well talk to me now."

Damn it. We had second period together.

I gathered my hair and put it to one shoulder.

I didn't slow down, but he soon was in step with me.

"Planning to join the track team?"

I stayed quiet.

Partly because I had nothing to say, and partly because I didn't want him to hear my imperfection any more.

"Look, all I wanted to say was that I was sorry. It's just what they do… belittle people," he elaborated.

I turned around suddenly, facing him. "You mean… it-it's what _you_ d-do."

He bowed his head.

I just walked away.

The bell was about to ring, I knew it.

When I got there, the only two seats left were no where near each other.

I praised any higher power(s) looking out for me.

I sat down next to a boy I've only saw in the hall.

We exchanged greetings.

I saw his face when he walked in.

Then he walked up to Brian, my table partner, and whispered into his ear.

I saw Brian nod, pick up his stuff and leave.

"W-what did you _d-do_?" I asked him.

He sat down to the now-empty seat next to me.

"Arranged something."

The bell rang and the teacher started talking.

The exact same rules. The same syllabus. I actually listened for most of it, because people have said that AP Chemistry II with Johnson is really difficult.

Toward the end of the class, I, again, received a note. But it was in a notebook, and he just slid it over to me this time.

_I know you have feelings._

I pushed it back to him, rolling my eyes.

He was put off by my lack of answer.

_I __do_.

I turned towards him and raised my eyebrow, unconvinced.

He pulled the notebook back and wrote a little more down then passed it my way again.

_I get it. You've had it forever. It's not your fault, you've had it since birth._

My blood boiled as the bell rang.

I started packing up my things with rage.

"Hold your horses," he asked.

I didn't.

"What's wrong?"

I looked him right in the eye, but my throat clenched again. "… Don't you… e-ever think that y-you know my l-life story. You d-don't… know me. Don't p-pretend to."

I watched as he stepped back, stunned at my words.

All throughout third period, I was fuming.

Who did he think he was?

He thinks he knows everything about every_body_.

Well, I hope he learned his lesson.

When fourth period came along, I remembered I had it with him.

Fortunately, I had it with my brother as well. He was always better at math than I was.

I was joking with Embry while Tristan walked in.

The same trudge, the same smirk.

"Ugh," I moaned to Embry.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Him," I whispered. "H-he's such a j-jerk."

"Tristan?"

I nodded.

"He's in my digital photography class. Has a _lot_ of cool shit."

"Of _c-course_ he does. He's f-filthy rich."

Tristan locked eyes with me then walked over.

"Would you mind sitting somewhere else, man?" he asked my brother.

"What?" Embry replied, furrowing his eyebrows and cocking his head.

"_Move_," he ordered.

I gave Embry a wide-eyed look.

"What do you want with my sister?"

Tristan took a step back.

"Sister?" he asked.

Embry stood and extended his hand. "Embry Hayden. Rory's brother."

Tristan took it. "It's funny. She never said anything about having a brother."

"Well, then it'd take away moments like this, don't you think?"

I saw Tristan's jaw clench. "Right. See ya."

He waved at me. I waved back.

**Thank you so much!** I wrote to Embry.

"No problem," he whispered, as the teacher came up.

When class was over, I walked out of the classroom chatting and laughing with my brother.

"You can sit with us, if you want," he offered. He had a table with him and some of his friends.

I shook my head. "But… t-thanks."

He nodded and patted my arm, "Take care and don't take crap."

I smiled and kept walking straight as he turned right, to the lunch center.

As I got to my locker, I noticed a couple already taking my spot.

"E-ex_cuse_ me." I tried.

They were still kissing.

I tapped the boys arm. He turned around to me.

"What the – " he started.

"C-could you p-please move a little? My… l-locker…" My thought was clenched and it was really hard to talk.

"Screw you," the girl said, and went back to snogging her boy.

"Kyle, man!" I heard and the boy in front of me stopped making out and shook the guy's hand.

It was Tristan.

I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, could I get past you?" Tristan asked him.

"No problem," Kyle said and patted Tristan's back as he walked around me, his slut in toe.

"You d-didn't need t-t-to do… that," I told him, getting my locker open.

"And what would you have done if I didn't?"

I shrugged my shoulders, unpacking my books and taking out others. "Probably waited t-till after l-lunch."

"And isn't this better?"

I paused, turning and looking at him. "W-why are you b-being so nice to m-me?" I scrunched my eyebrows and narrowed my eyes.

He looked down and shuffled his feet.

"The K-king of Chilton squirm-ming?" I teased.

"I don't know, Rory. I guess I feel bad for the way my crowd treats you."

"And you ch-choose now, s-seven years down the l-line, to fix it?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess."

"Well, th-thanks, but no thanks. I-I'm fine."

"Look, I thought I was doing you a favor. For_give _me," he said, putting his hands up as if for defense and started walking away.

Suddenly, I felt horrible for the way I had treated him.

"… Wait, Tristan!" I shouted. It came out high-pitched, but I didn't stutter.

He turned around with his eyebrows raised, then walked back to me.

"I-I'm just used to b-being… _used _for jokes and s-s-stuff. I'm… sorry."

He nodded. "Well, I can assure you that I'm not going to be making fun of you."

I smiled slightly at him.

"Hey," he started as he grabbed my arm, "you want to eat lunch together?"

"Tristan!" I heard someone scream at the end of the hall. He looked up. "You coming?!" they yelled.

I sighed. "It s-seems like your… _fan club_ is waiting for you."

His eyes apologized. I nodded understandingly and he walked off.

I spent lunch by myself, reading under a tree.

Fifth period was the same as any other and was over after an hour.

Unfortunately, sixth period was totally on the other end of campus, and by the time I got there, there was only one seat left.

By Tristan.

He does it on _purpose_, I bet.

**How DO you get the seat right next to me every time?** I wrote to him when I sat down.

_Psychic_.

**Why, of course! Why didn't I think of that?**

He laughed and we listened to the teacher.

A/N: Okay, I tried to do the absolute best that I could. I hope you guys liked it! When I think of stuttering, I think of that guy in Pearl Harbor. If you have him in your head, you'll understand what Rory sounds like. I don't think I'll update this story as often as I did _A Lack of Color_ because it took me like, a _week_ to finish this first chapter. I hope you guys don't think they're too OOC. Even if they are, it's my story, right? I got this story idea off a forum topic by Dreamer Literati. I had to tweak it a_ lot_ to make it my own and turn it into a Trory. Hope you liked it! Review, please! Then I'll know if it's worth finishing.


	2. Alone Down There

**Goodbye, My Almost Lover**

**Chapter 2. Alone Down There**

I sat on the field to eat lunch.

It was Thursday.

I closed my eyes and got lost in the music that was coming out of my headphones.

Every day, I sat in the same place. Same time. Same everything.

I jumped when I felt my music stripped from my ears.

"Just me," I heard him say.

We small-talked in the periods we had together, but nothing really significant. Definitely nothing for him to think he needed to sit next to me.

But he did anyway.

"The grass is a little wet…" he said, holding himself up by his hands.

I did the same to show him that I had one of my binders underneath my butt.

"Very smart of you," Tristan commented as he opened up his backpack and pulled out one of his own.

When he was comfortable, he took out his lunch.

"W-what are you… _doing_?" I asked, trying hard to get through the words.

"I'm eating. As you should be doing. Have you even _touched_ your sandwich?"

I shrugged.

He sighed. "I just wanted to eat with you."

I pulled out my notebook. My throat was dry.

"Right," he muttered. "You don't like to talk. Got it."

**I meant, why are you here and not with your friends?**

He looked around, no doubt looking for an answer himself.

_You looked lonely._

**Usually, people like you wouldn't even care. No offense.**

He put his hand over his heart. "You wound me. I care about every body. What do you mean 'like me'?"

I rolled my eyes. **The popular people. You're too into your crowd to think about anyone outside it.**

"You should really not carry around preconceptions."

**Why not?**

"You're going to miss out on a lot," he said, between bites of his sandwich.

I contemplated his words as we sat in silence for a little bit.

"So, why _don't _you talk?"

I took a deep breath. "Have you… h-heard me?"

"Nothing a little practice can't fix."

I shook my head. "I…I've been t-t'classes. T-too many. 'S-s-special Ed,'" I used finger quotes around the words. "I… understand everything. I-I just have a… h-harder time at… getting it out."

He nodded, taking in my words. "Maybe you need something else. Not a class, just some help."

I rolled my eyes. "A-are you off-fering?"

His face dropped at my snotty tone. "I guess not."

I had a pit in my stomach after that. "I'm sorry," I said, quickly.

He nodded, ensuring me that he accepted it.

"I just… d-don't think _any_th-thing can help me. You know?"

He took a sip of his canned beverage. "I know."

The bell rang, signaling fifth period was to start in five minutes.

"What's your number, Rory?" he asked out of the blue.

I must have made a surprised face because he said, "Just wondering. I'm not a stalker, I promise."

"W-why would _you_… want i-it?"

He chucked and looked down at his shoes then back up at me. "I don't know… Maybe because I want to _talk _to you…?"

I half smiled and took out a corner of a page in my notebook. After writing my number, I gave it to him.

"Is this your cell phone?" he asked, pointing to the note.

I nodded.

He smiled and took a step back. "See you in sixth period."

I nodded and watched him walk away.

This was all so surreal.

Why would he possibly want to spend time with _me_ of all people?

He had his friends.

Well, "friends".

I don't know what to make of this.

It's all so… weird.

When I walked into sixth an hour later, I took my seat next to Tristan.

At the end of the day, Tristan and I walked out of the classroom together.

"Are you going to be home tonight?" he asked.

I cocked an eyebrow.

He laughed. "For me to call."

"O-oh. Yeah… I'll b-be home. I… don't really h-have that m-many friends."

"Great. It's a date."

Before I could reply he was walking away from me.

Assuming my hesitation, he yelled over his shoulder, "Of friends. That's it, Mary."

I wasn't stupid. I knew what that name meant.

When I would be called that, it usually had an underlying snide to it. This was friendly.

I could get used to this.

"So, what was that I just witnessed?" I heard behind me. "You and the King chatting it up?"

"Oh sh-shut up, Embry. We're… f-friends."

"Friends with whom you have referred to in the past as 'the Enemy'. Interesting."

"He's b-better than that."

"And sticking up for him. Even more intriguing."

I rolled my eyes. "L-let's go home."

On the ride home, I knew he knew that I was annoyed with him. Instead of pressing on, like he usually would, he actually talked his mind.

"I just don't want you to get all caught up in it and not see it for what it _could_ be. I don't want you to get stabbed in the back."

I nodded and replied, "I-I'm being careful. It's n-new."

"He's calling you, Rory. It seems like a set up."

"I'll b-be fine… I'm f-fine."

I ended the conversation.

We pulled in the driveway and we both went to our respective rooms to finish homework.

After homework, which took a couple of hours, I picked up my guitar.

I've been playing ever since…

Well, for a while.

I've gotten pretty good at it.

I started picking and singing The Format's "She Doesn't Get It".

I always feel weird when I sing songs sung from males.

Because it's usually about how they love _her_ and want to sleep with _her_ or just stuff like that.

Makes me sound like a lesbian.

But I enjoy this particular song. The chords and notes are pretty. The verses are mellow and sad.

I sang the last line and finished picking at the strings for the last few notes.

"New Religion is my song too," I heard behind me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

New Religion from Duran Duran. A line from the song mentioned it.

"W-what are you d-doing… here?"

"Just thought I'd drop by. I was in the area."

I stood off my bed and faced him.

This is awkward.

"It doesn't have to be," he replied.

I guess I said that out loud.

"Why are… you h-here?"

"Visiting, like I said. Isn't that what friends do?"

I sighed. "_Friends._ G-good friends. Not… almost f-friends. This is too… f-fast. To-too weird."

He chucked. "But I'm no ordinary friend."

"N-no?"

"No. I'm Tristan DuGrey. I'm the best friend anyone could have."

I rolled my eyes.

He laughed again.

His smile was nice.

"How about we go into your living room and talk. Maybe have some dinner. I'm starving."

"Y-you're inviting yourself… to d-dinner?"

"I never said I wanted to."

I sighed heavily. "Well, _d-don't_ you want to… have dinner h-here?"

"Well, I appreciate the invitation. Fortunately, my schedule for the night is free. You should try asking in advance next time. You might not be as lucky."

I laughed.

At something he said.

That's hardly happened.

_Ever_.

I ushered him to the 'family' room on the bottom floor.

I asked him if he wanted anything to drink. I made us both water in ice.

When we sat down on the couch, I took out a little pad of paper.

**Dinner is going to be ready at 7. You only have ten minutes to wait. Do you think you'll make it?**

He chuckled. "Yeah, I think I'll manage."

I saw that he was fidgeting his hands.

He started biting his lip.

**Just say it.**

He read it. "Say what?"

**What you're barely keeping in. I know you have something in mind.**

He took a deep breath. "When you were singing…"

I nodded.

"You didn't stutter."

I shrugged.

"You haven't mentioned that you can sing without getting all…"

"I-I know what you… m-mean."

He was tapping his foot.

"I th-think it has… to d-do with the repet-tive nature of s-song. It's more… relaxed." I barely got the last word out.

He nodded, seeming to contemplate my words.

"You should do it. For the talent show coming up."

I choked on my water.

"Come on, Rory. You're wonderful."

I gave him a surprised look.

He smirked. "At singing. You've a nice voice."

I made a face. "I d-don't think so." I shook my head.

"It's up to you. But I think you'd do great."

I didn't say anything, hoping the subject would be dropped.

The maid came into the room and informed us that dinner was ready. Then she went to fetch Emery.

"Lead the way," Tristan told me.

I waved my hand for him to follow me and I went through the hall into the dining room.

Embry walked into the room and stopped dead in his tracks.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"It seems to be the question of the night, actually," Tristan replied.

Embry took his seat across from me as Tristan sat beside me.

"I was in the area and decided to stop by."

"I didn't know you two were that close…" Embry said, narrowing his eyes at me.

"We a-aren't," I said quickly.

"Thanks, Ror. I feel much better now," Tristan said, mockingly putting his hand over his heart.

The maid brought out the dinner.

Some weird dish elegantly put.

After we ate, I walked Tristan out.

"Embry doesn't seem to like me very much…" Tristan stated.

"He's j-just… _protective_."

Tristan nodded and we came upon his expensive car.

"Glad I stopped by?" he asked me.

"S-s-surprised, I g-guess."

"Well, I'm glad."

He got in and rolled down the window before he sped off.

"Goodnight, Mary."

A friendly tone.

Was I really starting to be friends with Tristan DuGrey, King of Chilton?

Right when Tristan pulled out of the driveway, my dad came up it.

"Who was that?!" he asked, entirely too excited for me to have a friend over.

"Tristan DuGrey," I said before turning and walking toward the house.

I didn't miss his surprised look and his jaw drop, though.

I dodged his questions the rest of the night.

A/N: Tried to keep it fluffy and airy. The singing thing _has_ actually helped people with stammers. Just so you know. Didn't make that up. Hope you liked this chapter. Review.


	3. Trust Me

**Goodbye, My Almost Lover**

**Chapter 3. Trust Me**

It was finally Friday and I was walking to my locker during third period to grab something.

Tristan coming over last night was a surprise.

A good surprise.

A nice surprise.

I wonder how he got my address.

I mean, it's not like we're the only Haydens in Hartford.

"Ugh!" I moaned as I got pulled into a hall closet.

A hand flew over my mouth as the door shut.

"It's just me, it's Tristan," I heard him try to calm me down.

I tried to shout something at him, but his hand was still over my mouth.

"I need your help," he hurriedly said as he took his hand off me.

"W-what the hell, Tr-tristan?"

"I need your _help_."

I took a deep breath and tried to still my heartbeat. "What do you w-want?"

"My friend, if he gets caught using again, he's expelled."

I furrowed my eyebrows, not understanding. "What d-does… this ha-have to do with m-me?"

"He had a get together two nights ago, and there was stuff there. He's in the nurse's office right now, and someone needs to go in there and pee for him."

I gave Tristan an incredulous look. "What?!" It came out high-pitched.

His hand flew over my mouth and he hissed at me. "Shh! Rory, you're going to get us in trouble."

I pushed him off me and ran my hand through my hair. "What do y-you want me to… _d-do_?"

"I need you to get sent to the nurse. I need you to get alone with him, get his cup, go into the bathroom, pee, and give it back to him without anyone noticing."

My mouth opened but he covered it once again.

"_Please_, Rory. _Please_. I promised him I would get someone."

"Mmph mmm," I tried to talk but it came out a muffle. He moved his hand off. "Why don't… y-_you_ just do it?"

He looked down and ran a hand through his hair.

"Oh," I said. "Y-you we-were there…"

"Well… yeah."

I nodded and looked to my feet.

Sighing, I looked back into his eyes. He had gorgeous eyes. "H-how am I go-going to get… sent th-there?"

He smiled. A nice smile. Then it faded. "I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair. "Here. Give me your hand."

I held out my hand as he looked around. Finally, he picked something up.

"You left handed?" he asked as he held my right hand.

I shook my head.

"Then I won't do it to your right hand. Give me your other."

I obeyed.

"Brace yourself."

I widened my eyes and then saw a broken piece of something in his hand getting closer and closer to my index finger.

"Tris – " but I couldn't get it out before I felt a sting of pain go throughout my hand, originating from my finger.

"Say you got it from you locker. They'll totally look the other way."

I felt tears come up to my eyes.

He gasped slightly, seeing. He took my face in his hands. "I'm sorry."

I drop escaped and cascaded down my cheek. He wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"It's… fine," I whispered, not trusting my voice.

He nodded, stepping away from me.

"Thanks a _lot_, Rory. I don't even think you realize what this means…"

I looked up at him and smiled slightly, assuring him that I was willing.

All of the sudden, he extended his arms and hugged me.

Tristan DuGrey was hugging me. _Hugging_ me.

Holy shit.

If you would have told me just one month ago that I would be peeing in a cup for a guy that _I_ didn't even know just because Tristan DuGrey told me to, I would have thought you were crazy.

I mean… I'm not just doing this because Tristan asked me to.

That would look like…

I don't know. Like I'd do anything. For Tristan.

And I _totally _wouldn't. I was just saying…

He was in need, and I, the gracious person that I am, decided to help a fellow classmate out.

The fact that it was Tristan wasn't even in the picture.

It could have been his girl friend that was in his car on Monday.

I would have done it for _her._

Well, maybe not _her_, but for anyone other than her.

Because she's just a plain bitch.

And one of my all-time rules in my life is to not help out a bitch.

Because then you're teaching them what lesson?

That they can do anything and still get everything you want.

Anyways, Tristan's arms are around me and I find myself mirroring the gesture.

I'm _hugging_ Tristan DuGrey.

He pulled away.

"You better get back to class."

I nodded.

We were still close to each other.

I could feel his breath on my face.

"They'll be looking for us soon."

I nodded.

We still didn't move.

His hands were on my waist.

"You're a really good person, Rory."

"S-so are you."

My eyes widened and I swear, it was one of those movie scenes were you just _know_ he's going to kiss her at that exact moment.

But he didn't.

He pulled away and opened the door for me.

"Hurry. We don't have much longer to wait."

I nodded and rushed toward my classroom.

Only when I walked in and everyone looked at me, did I realize that I still had blood dripping from my finger. I held it up.

"C-can I go to th-the… nurse?"

My teacher gasped and nodded, too stunned with my entrance to talk.

I bowed my head and exited.

I hurried to the office, holding my other hand under my bleeding finger.

Upon getting to the right door, I took a deep breath.

I was about to do something that was so unlike me.

And I was doing it so a silly boy could get away with something that I don't support.

What a twisted web.

"Ex-excuse me?" I asked, looking into the room before I took a step in.

It was cool inside.

"Yes, miss?"

"I've c-cut… my finger," I squeaked out.

I saw Tristan's friend on the table in the adjoining room.

I nodded to him.

He smirked and looked back down to what he was holding. A clear cup with a black lid.

"There you go, honey. You're free to go back to class."

"A-actually, I've g-g-got this headach-ache. Would y-mind i-if I lay d-down?"

She looked at me questioningly.

I was pushing it.

I was going to get caught.

I knew it.

Great. The one time that I do something bad, I get caught.

Yet this other guy has been doing drugs long enough and he never gets caught.

But I could let him get caught right now.

Would I? Could I?

Tristan asked me…

Speaking of Tristan…

I saw a blur looking like him whiz into the room, aching and shouting.

It sent the nurse into his care.

I looked at him.

He nodded, pushing me to go help the boy.

I nodded back, and went, but not before I saw what he was screaming about.

His hand was all cut up.

Shards of broken glass or something was stuck in it everywhere. Just like the pieces he used to cut my finger with.

He sure knew how to save the day.

I grabbed the cup from the boy.

"Excuse m-me? Nurse? You d-don't mind if I-I use the… _bath_room…?"

"No, go ahead!" she was trying to keep her head on straight as she searched around her office in search for tweezers.

I peed in the cup and looked around before I walked out.

"They're in the other room. She was freaked out."

That was Tristan's friend talking.

I smiled softly.

"What's your name?"

"R-rory."

"Well, nice to meet you, R-rory."

I narrowed my eyes and scrunched up my eyebrows.

His eyes widened. "I didn't mean that as a… I just meant… the way you said it…" He took a deep breath. "I just meant it as a friendly joke. Not a sickly one."

My face un-tensed and I set the cup by him.

"I'm figuring you don't do drugs."

I shook my head.

"My name's Jake."

"N-nice to… meet you."

"I just thought you should know my name, if you're saving my life."

I laughed softly.

"You want to sit with us today?"

The question came out of nowhere.

What do I say?

Tristan had _never_ invited me to sit with them.

Maybe he didn't want me to…

"I… I m-mean…" My voice was ahead of me and I didn't even know what I was going to say. "Your fr-friends. They d-don't," I looked down and paused, "like me."

"_I'll_ worry about 'em."

I looked behind me into the room where Tristan was.

"He'd love it, too."

I nodded, slightly, acknowledging him.

"You d-don't even kn-know me…"

He smiled. "I know you enough to know that you would help someone out even though you don't even know them. That's _really_ cool, in my book."

I looked down and blushed.

"So what about it?"

So, I would sit at there table. It's not exactly the crisis situation, right?

"Sure," I answered.

_Later_…

**I can't believe I did it. You **_**know **_**me. Why did I do it?**

He bit his lip and looked down.

After a second, he looked back up at me.

"You wanted to help Tristan."

**Why would I want to do that?**

Embry took a deep breath. "Because you like him, Rory."

I shot him a look.

"Don't act like it's so silly. He's the most popular guy at the school. Obviously, there's something attractive there."

I sighed and put my pen back on the paper.

**It's weird, isn't it? Someone of that social stature talking to ****me**

"Believe it or not, Ror, you're an awesome person. It's about time someone has gotten to know you past your speech. How was the lunch?"

I breathed deeply. "Well… I s-sat. And I… listen-ened and… th-that's about it."

"You didn't interact at all?"

**There wasn't really anything to say. Tristan talked to me a little, trying to get me to come 'out of my shell'. I don' think I'll ever feel comfortable with them…**

"But you feel comfortable with Tristan?"

I pondered his words.

**Whatever. I'm sick of talking about it. How was your day?**

"I'm going on a date tomorrow night," he said, nonchalantly.

I smiled big and squeeled a little. "Ah!"

**Whoo? Who?!**

He smiled too. "This girl Lauren. She's really pretty and smart. And everything."

He was glowing.

"I-I'm so… h-happy for you, Em."

He looked down and I saw his cheeks turn red. "Yeah…"

I bit my lip and looked back onto my notepad.

**You should bring her over here so I can meet her.**

"See, that's what I was going to talk to you about…"

I looked at him with my eyebrow raised.

"Well," he started. "As you know, I don't have my lisence yet. I only have my permit. Which _means_ that I can't drive alone with a person younger than 25…"

I knew where this was headed.

"And it'd be really awkward if Dad or one of her parents would have to lug us around…"

"Mmmhmm…" I said, just waiting for it.

"So I was wondering, if possibly, maybe – if you're free of course – if you could probably, perhaps… drive us around?"

I smiled at put my head in my hands.

I hate being a chauffer.

I did it once with him and it was so boring, I could have killed myself.

But, then again, he's my brother, and perhaps my best friend.

"F-fine, I'll d-do it."

He wrapped his arms around me. "You're the best sister in the world!"

A/N: Okay, got some Embry in there for you who are asking for it. I hoped you liked the beginning of the chapter. I just thought that it was kind of humorous and also kind of awkward. Totally unlike Rory. So, is she doing things just because he would ask her to? Is she falling for him? Is she going to keep sitting at their table at lunch? Tune in next time. Oh, and review, _please_.


	4. On Your Porch

**Goodbye, My Almost Lover**

**Chapter 4. **

"We'll be doing a project. Just a week-long thing," she informed us.

The class groaned.

"Oh, shush. It's easy stuff. In groups of three."

I saw my peers' looking around the room, connecting eyes with their friends, making promises to join them.

Tristan leaned over and nudged me, signaling that he was expecting to be one of my partners.

I smiled at him, agreeing.

When the teacher was explaining the expectations and content that needed to be in it, she told us that we'd have a few days in class to do it, but it would primarily be an out-of-school assignment.

"Due Monday," she told us. "Okay, fine. I see you all fidgeting to get with your friends. Put your tables together in your groups and start working."

It seemed like everyone got up at the same time, but Tristan and I just had to scoot a little to have our desks actually touch, as we were already sitting next to each other.

"Hey Tristan…" they fawned.

"Yeah,_Hi Tristan_," and batted their eyes.

"We'd like to be in your group," the two said in unison.

He looked over at me, like he was looking for an answer.

I shrugged.

"I'm working with Rory, actually." He pointed toward our adjoined desks.

The glared at me. I ducked my head.

Number One: "_Why_?"

"Because I want to," he replied, not wasting any time coming up with an answer.

"I'll work in your group," Two said.

One looked at Two like she had just betrayed her. One elbowed Two's arm.

"I thought we wanted to be together…" she hinted, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of "God" Tristan.

"Well, I changed my mind," Two said, then pulled a desk to sit in front of Tristan and me.

One looked around nervously and then went to find someone to group with quick, before she was left out.

"Hi," she extended her hand to me, "I'm Kim."

I shook it. "Rory."

I managed to get it out without a stutter.

"Okay," Tristan said, "She said we'd have tomorrow, the next day, and then the day after that to work on it in class. I'd say that we won't finish it before then, so when's everybody free after that?"

"I have a party to go to on Friday," Kim said quickly.

"Okay, Rory?"

I shook my head.

"How about we get together Thursday, then?"

"That's fine with me," Kim assured.

"Rory?" Tristan asked again.

I nodded, this time.

"Okay. What should we do it on?"

_After the class_…

It was the passing time to get to Third period.

"Are you going to sit with us again?" he asked, talking about during lunch.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I d-don't…. kn-now."

"It's always open for you if you want. I know it's not really your kind of people, but it was fun last time, don't you think?"

I shrugged again.

"Well, whatever." He shrugged his own shoulders. "I'll see you in fourth?"

I nodded.

We separated to our different ways.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast.

I didn't sit with them.

I sat on the field, reading.

I don't know why I don't like it.

Maybe it_is_ because they're really _not_ my 'kind of people'.

I guess I like it being just _me_ and Tristan. Kind of like I know he'll pay attention to me no matter what.

Okay that sounded horrible.

It's not like I'm an attention "whore," but it was awkward, just sitting there the other day.

_Really_ awkward. And I know if I wanted to talk to him, I couldn't, because of my stupid speech thing. Then they'd make fun of me again. Then he'd probably laugh along with them, so I couldn't even talk to him anyway, because he'd be too interested in what they're saying anyway.

Okay, yeah, I'm babbling.

Something I do a lot in my head.

I guess I'm just paranoid.

I don't put myself in those kinds of situations on purpose.

The kinds of situations where I can be made fun of. It's just not something I want to be a part of.

Well, duh. Okay.

I need a nap.

_Friday_

We hardly got anything done yesterday, because Kim was about an hour late, and like fools, we waited for her. Then, she had to leave early because of an appointment she made with some doctor.

So, we got through an hour, maybe, of work.

I was kind of complaining to Tristan about her leaving so early, but he told me that the doctor thing was bona fide.

Apparently, Kim has really bad asthma.

Wow. I guess _some _pretty people have troubles too.

She seemed pretty cool too, with the little time we have spent together.

Note to self: Maybe hang out with Kim more.

When I proposed the thought to Tristan, he told me that it was perfect, because she sat at his table during lunch. He was happy that I wouldn't be so awkward and lonely.

My words, by the way, not his.

He wouldn't say anything that impersonal and rude.

He's actually very considering and nice.

I would have never thought in a million years that I would become friends with Tristan DuGrey.

Not that we're officially friends.

I mean, he probably wouldn't want to be, anyway.

He's got tons of friends. Why would he need me?

Anyways, I was getting ready for a night out with my brother and his date. I figured, I would eat in the car, while they were in the restaurant, and then go see another movie while they're in theirs.

Perfect, yeah?

Well, Embry would taking _forever_ getting ready.

"How ab-about the b-black shirt?" I asked, holding it up.

"We went over this: Too funeral."

"Then what's w-wrong with the striped… p-polo?" I offered the blue and white colored polo to him.

He made a face.

"It l-looks great with y-your eyes. P-put it on and le-let's go…!" I pouted.

"This isn't even your date and you're rushing _me_."

"I'm ge-getting so b-bored with this, I c-could k-kill myself."

"Then I wouldn't have a ride…"

"That's r-right. N-now hurry up."

"Alright," he agreed, slipping the shirt I proposed before onto his slim body. "Do I look alright?"

I gave him two thumbs up.

"Awesome. Okay, let's go."

When we were about to step out the front door, there was already someone on the other side, ready to knock.

"Wh-what are you d-doing here?" I asked, surprised.

"Well, we hadn't finished, and it's due Monday, so I just thought we could work on it tonight…?"

I sighed. "Unfortunately, I-I have t-to chauffeur Embry a-around. Maybe to-tomorrow?" I asked.

He gave a small smile that read he was a little disappointed.

"Hey, man, maybe you can come with us? I'm sure Rory would love the company," Rhett said.

I looked at him, my mouth open.

How could he have thought of that before me?

A perfect idea.

Tristan looked at me, asking me if it was okay.

"Yeah, c-come on," I nudged his shoulder.

Tristan smiled bigger. "Sure, that'd be fun."

I smiled too, right back into his eyes.

"Come _on_ guys! Let's _go_!" Embry complained, walking quickly to the car.

"He's g-got a date," I told Tristan as we were walking in the direction Embry was going in.

"Ah, to be young an in love."

We got in, Tristan and I in front, and Embry in back. He was talking on his cell phone, telling Lauren he was on his way, and talking for a bit longer.

"Have you ever been in love?" He asked me.

Never. Not once.

No one really wants to take a chance on a girl that can't even communicate properly.

Except, of course, Tristan.

I shook my head. "Ha-haven't even had a b-boyfriend," I informed him. Embry was still on the phone.

"No way!" he scoffed.

I looked over at him, my eyes leaving the road while we were driving. I furrowed my eyebrows.

Then I looked back onto the road.

He got my hesitation.

"Well, I mean, god, you're _gorgeous_. I cant' imagine anyone not lining up for you."

I looked at him again, this time, my features soft. Then looked back.

"Th-that's the nicest th-thing anyo-one's ever s-said to m-me," I admitted, softly.

I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn't dare look back at them.

I was about to cry right then.

Tristan cleared his throat and then said, "Okay, about the project…"

After we picked up Lauren, Embry's "girlfriend" (I teased him mercilessly on the ride there), we pulled into the local pizzeria.

We all got out and I told Tristan that we were coming right back to the car after our order was ready.

"Why?" he asked.

I quietly said to him, so Lauren couldn't hear, "So they c-can have priva-vacy. Duh."

"Right," Tristan said, with a deep breath.

When we finally got our medium pizza (pepperoni, because how much more original can you get?), Tristan and I settled back in with our cokes and extra napkins.

"So…" I said, when the awkward silence kicked in.

"What's up?" he asked me back.

"T-tell me someth-thing. That I d-don't alread-dy know."

He was taken aback by the question, but thought about it anyway. "I write in a journal. Longhand. When I can't sleep. It usually helps me fall asleep."

I looked in his eyes and I knew he was being serious. Again, I almost cried, he was so wonderful.

"You?" he asked me.

I thought about the question just like he had. What would I say? What do I want him to know? Better yet, what do I want him to _not_ know. Finally, I came upon a decision. "I o-often have the urge t-to talk to people in the mi-middle of the night. I've t-tried chat r-rooms, but the idea of t-talking to a bunch of st-strangers is extr-remely depress-sing. You s-see, we're all los-sing the ab-ability to talk to p-people in a p-personal, human k-kind of way."

He looked at me questioningly. I blushed under his eyes.

"That is the coolest answer I've ever heard."

I, again, blushed and tucked my hair behind my ear, nervously.

"Tell me another thing," he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"How long have you been playing guitar?"

"Since the s-summer be-before ninth right after – "

Oh my god. I almost just said it.

The words were so close to leaving my mouth.

It was like I mentally slapped closed my mouth and swallowed them back down again.

Tears sprung to my eyes. Was it really not that important to me anymore?

Did I really not care anymore?

Could I just talk about it like that now?

Like it was nothing?

I started breathing all funny and Tristan noticed.

"Right after what?" he asked.

I shook my head. I couldn't trust my voice.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head again.

I almost just betrayed the one person in my life that never betrayed me. That never hurt me.

It was quiet for a moment, but quickly disappeared when Tristan spoke.

"Did you know that the average American spends six months of his or her life waiting for red lights to turn green?"

I looked at him oddly. It was _so_ random.

I strained to ask, "What?"

"Six months pissed away, waiting for permission to move forward," he said.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Uh-huh."

"Think of all the other stuff you could do with that time."

I asked, confused, "In the c-car?"

"In your life." I felt his eyes on me and I looked back on him.

He was trying to get my mind off of… _that_ and onto something else.

And it worked.

And there, in the car, looking straight into one another's eyes, it felt…

Just for a small moment…

That we were going to kiss.

I licked my lips, loosening my body to easily lean closer.

Getting ready for it.

For the kiss.

But it didn't come.

He simply smiled and looked back down in his lap and fumbled in his backpack.

"Let's get working."

I smiled only slightly as we started to do our homework.

_Later_…

I strummed the guitar as the wind hit us.

He had asked me to play. "Pick a song," he had said.

The Format's "On Your Porch" came to mind.

We were in front of my house, on one of those wooden swings. You know, that sit, like, two or three people?

Now, I was looking at him.

He was completely different than who I'd thought he'd be.

He was sweet.

He was understanding.

He knew when to get me to laugh.

The whole night he had been such the gentleman. He was so nice.

He had amazing features, facial _and_… otherwise.

And he was interested in _me_, of all people.

And only then did it hit me.

He wasn't just being nice because he wanted to.

He wasn't just doing all this because he thought he needed to.

He was doing it because he likes hanging out with me.

He likes talking to me about interesting stuff.

Were we becoming –

"What?" he asked, after a while, still looking in front of him.

I wanted to ask.

"Are w-we…" but then, all of the sudden, I felt _really_ embarrassed, so I didn't finish.

"What?" he smiled big and turned to face me. "Are we what?"

"W-well…"

"Come on, Rory. You can ask. Go ahead."

His eyes were sincere.

"Are we… f-friends, n-now?"

"You know we are, Rory."

"I m-mean," I intentionally paused, "_real_ friends."

He looked in my eyes for a second. "I'd like to think we are. Do _you_think so?"

"I _want_ to b-be." My eyes were big with… embarrassment? No. Anticipation. To what he would say.

He smiled a gorgeous smile. "It's settled, then."

I gave him a small smile, telling him that I agreed, but there was something I still had to talk about.

"What is it?" he asked.

He caught on to my intended hesitation.

He knew me more than a lot of people.

"Come on, Rory, what_ is_ it?"

"R-remember earlier wh-when you asked if…" I took a deep breath, trying to get it out, "when I started playing?" My hand gestures indicated my guitar and he nodded, understanding that I was talking about.

"Yeah?"

"Well… I w-wasn't just b-born_ this _w-way." I, again, hand-gesture-d, this time, to my mouth.

He gave me a questioning look, not fully understanding, but comprehending that I meant my stutter.

"It happened ar-around the e-end of the first s-semester of e-eighth grade."

Tristan's eyebrows furrowed together. "Why?"

I looked away as tears filled my eyes. "My mom, she…" I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to be tough, "she… d-died."

I felt Tristan's hand cover mine.

After a few moments of me not saying anything, he asked, "How?"

"Car…" I was pushing air, "accid-dent."

He nodded, quietly, letting me take my time.

He always did that.

"She was m-my b-best fr-fr-fr-friend," I was breathing heavily, starting to cry.

"It's okay," he said, reassuring me that I didn't need to go on.

"No. I want get th-this out."

He nodded once more and stayed silent, urging me to finish.

"I stopped t-talking altogether. I only p-passed school be-because th-they felt-t sorry for m-me."

"You didn't talk?"

"No. Not unt-til school s-started again after s-summer. No one really b-bothered me d-during summer, I just ta-taught myself and s-stayed out of everyone's w-way. Anyway, wh-when I t-tried to talk ag-again, it c-came out a stutter. G-great way to s-start highsc-school, yeah?" I said sarcastically.

"What about Embry?"

"He w-was young. Sixth gr-grade. I d-don't think he rememb-bers much. I w-wouldn't exp-pect him to, I g-guess."

He was quiet for a second.

And almost like he knew I was so close to crying my eyes out, he put his arm around me.

Just around my shoulder.

And I broke in his arms, but he held the pieces together.

And right then, that's all I needed.

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry for the delay. I love this story so much and I wanted to make you all smile with this chapter. The thing is, that so many of you were asking what had happened and where was Lorelai, so I thought I'd answer all questions before it got too multi-dimensional. I hoped you liked it! Review.


	5. She Changes Your Mind

**Goodbye, My Almost Lover**

**Chapter 5. She Changes Your Mind**

My eyes were wide with fear as I listened to the loudspeaker during the first five minutes of first period.

What was I going to _do_?

I gasped for breath and realized the weight of my actions.

An hour later, during passing period, I hastily walked up to Tristan.

He understood what I was upset about and quickly excused himself from his group of friends so we could talk in private.

"They're talking… s-suspension, Tristan," I said, nervously glancing over my shoulder.

"You have to learn to relax, Mary."

I dismissed his pet name. "This isn't a l-laid back th-thing. This i-is _huge_. I c-can't get suspended."

"Nobody knows _you_ peed in the cup. They wouldn't even _suspect_ it was you. We hardly talked to each other then, remember?"

"How c-could you h-h-have… talked me into this…?" I mumbled, unbelievingly.

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Who knew they could tell if it was male or female? I guess we'll learn by our mistakes and next time, I'll catch a guy. No big deal."

With his touch, almost all my nerves went away.

_Almost_.

"No big _deal_? Th-this is a _huge_ d-deal. You h-heard him – he s-said he would question p-p-people until someone c-cracks."

"Charleston doesn't know shit. Nobody will squeal. They know if they do, then they'll have to deal with me."

I looked up in his eyes. "I'm s-s-_scared_, Tristan. I barely get th-through this s-school without a s-scratch, and I just c-c-can't…"

Tristan put his hand on my cheek. "It won't come back to you, I promise," he said, very, very quietly.

Then he put his arms around me and gave me a hug.

I breathed in his scent.

I knew the smell. It was one of my favorite colognes.

But I could smell the faint smell of smoke and something I couldn't put my finger on.

Those three scents _are_ Tristan.

"Tristan?" we heard behind us.

He let go of me, and I let my arms fall as they suddenly weighed a ton.

"Hey," he smiled.

Then he walked up to her and gave her a kiss. A chaste one. A sweet one.

One that I would like.

"Rory, this is Emily."

She smiled and reached out her hand.

I took it. "Nice to meet y-you."

Oh god. She probably thinks I'm a moron.

She is probably going to get on Tristan for hanging out with someone stupid like me.

But she still smiled and said, "Nice to meet you too."

She was sweet.

Emily turned to Tristan and asked, "So, did you hear about Jake? Weird, huh?"

Tristan looked at me and winked. "Yeah, I didn't have a _clue_."

"_No_ one did. And he's usually such a big mouth. He would have totally said something about it. I wonder why he didn't."

Tristan shrugged.

I connected eyes with him and then motioned that I was going to leave.

He gave an apologetic look. I smiled in return, making him think it was okay.

That _I_ was okay.

And then I excused myself and went to my next class.

She was sweet.

So why did I hate her so much?

_Later_…

"Because you _like_ him. Rory, it's totally obvious. He's the only other guy besides me that has been nice to you since, what, eighth grade? It makes sense."

I shook my head. **I can't. He's with someone. I just can't. There's no way.**

He shrugged. "You never know what's going on in his head."

"This is p-probably some s-sick joke to him or som-something."

"Well, I wouldn't put it past him. But honestly, with everything he's done, he _seems_ sincere."

I leaned back into the couch we were sitting on.

**This is confusing.**

"Just take a _chance_. I mean, I did, and it all turned out great."

I rolled my eyes. **You get your very first girlfriend, and you think you're all that.**

"It's more than you've ever done."

"I d-don't swing that w-way."

He laughed. "You know what I mean."

"S-speaking of Lauren…"

"Nothing's happened yet – "

My face brightened, but he held up his hands in defense.

"Not saying that anything _will_. We're just seeing where it leads us, is all."

**You should have her hang out here more. I want to get to know her.**

He made a disgusted face. "That would be _so_ awkward."

"No, it _wouldn't_! It'd be n-nice."

"Oh yeah," he said suddenly, "Dad called earlier and he said he was going to be home for dinner."

I rolled my eyes.

"He just tries to get you to act like – "

"Like I'm _normal_?" I asked, trying my best to not stutter.

He gave me a look. "You know I didn't mean it that way."

I slouched my shoulders and picked up the pen again.

**He wants me to be someone I wasn't. I've ****changed****, Embry. We all have.**

"But you were social before…"

**Well, now I'm different. He's just going to have to deal with it.**

He shrugged.

**Why are you always on his side anyway?**

"You know I'm not taking sides here. I'm trying to be the mediator."

I sighed. "I d-don't need a mediator. I n-need a brother."

We heard the front door open and shut from where we were in the living room.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself of what was to come.

He walked into the room and put his briefcase down.

"I got some interesting news, Rory."

"Uh huh?"

"I hear you are spotted everywhere on campus with Tristan DuGrey."

I sighed. "It's n-nobody's busin-ness."

"Get that sassy tone out of your voice," he told me calmly, but had an authoritative manner.

I didn't listen or obey.

"It's like everyone h-has to b-be in our b-business. I c-can never have pr-privacy anymore."

"But you're in the limelight now. You're friends with the most popular guy in school – you might as well be popular, too."

"You only l-like him b-because he reminds you of y-yourself," I said, shortly.

"Don't talk to me like that," he used a warning tone.

I looked at Embry. "I'm not h-hungry anymore," I told him right before I started walking out of the room and up the stairs.

"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"

I turned around mid-stairway, and glared at him. "You… c-call that talk-king? Huh, it seems l-like yelling to m-me. How does it s-seem to _you_, Embry?"

I saw the sweat trickle on his forehead as all the attention was focused to him. "Uhm," he cleared his throat, "I think everyone has their own interpretations of sound waves."

My dad turned back at me. "You just can't be social can you? You just can't be _normal_."

"What _is_ normal, Dad?" I didn't stutter as I made my way toward him. "You? You're n-normal?"

He didn't argue. I stopped right in front of his face.

"How m-many friends do _you_ know had their w-wives die?" I was crying now.

His face immediately froze as he processed my comment.

'Yeah, I really just said that,' my eyes said.

Before I knew it, the back of his hand slapped against my face.

I stumbled a little to the left, cupping my cheek.

I looked back up at him, shocked.

His eyes were surprised as well.

He advanced toward me, in an almost sympathetic way.

I backed up fast.

A tear slipped down his cheek.

But I didn't care, and only looked at Embry.

He was the most shocked of all of us.

We were all breathing heavily.

It was as if everything was on pause as we recuperated.

Then I pressed play. I ran out of the house, into my car and started driving.

It was a crisp night. I was chilled in my casual clothes.

I didn't know where to go.

I didn't know where to _go_.

So I just drove.

_Later_…

"What time did you get in last night?" Embry asked me on the way to school.

"Late."

"That's informative."

"I j-just…" I took a deep breath. "He's n-never d-_done _that, Embry. He's n-never…"

"I know, Ror. I'm sorry."

"Four."

"What?"

"That's wh-what time I got in."

I looked over; his eyes were wide. But he just nodded.

_Later…_

"Hey," I heard and turned to see who the voice belonged to. "You're that girl."

It was the break after second period.

I smiled, looking in the eyes of Jake, knowing his type. "From your p-playboy reputation, you must… s-say that a lot." I laughed, reassuring him that I was joking.

He laughed. "Rory, Rory Gilmore. Nice to see you again."

"Nice to s-see you, too." I looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh!" Jake said, getting my hint. "This is Rem. Well, his real name is Cooper but we all call him Rem."

I shook his out-reached hand.

"Why?" I asked.

"Another story for another time," he answered. He heard the bell. "Oh crap. I need to go to the other side of the campus. See you later, Rory Gilmore."

I awkwardly waved, put-off by his sincerity.

"Come on, Rory," I hear Jake say to me as he turned and started walking into my classroom.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Are y-you in this cl-class?"

"The stupid guidance counselor effed up my schedule. So I had my classes changed."

"How'd you know th-that _I_ was in this c-c-class, then?"

He gave me a look.

"Tristan," we both said at the same time, as I rolled my eyes.

"Don't be like that," he told me, "he likes you, you know." Then he quickly corrected himself. "Not like _that_. I just meant that Tristan likes to experiment relationships outside of his social stature. Like, Rem's his best friend."

"Yeah. I n-noticed I haven't… s-seen him s-sitting with you guys at lu-lunch." We sat down in our seats.

"Tristan is just very down to earth. He gives people chances. I mean, I do too, to some extent, but the rest of our group… well, they're just really closed minded.

"Y-yeah, I c-could feel their d-dirty glares."

"Don't mind them. They'll come around. How could they not?"

I was about to blush when the teacher started talking.

"As you can all see, Jake Jackson has been added to this class. I'm sure you all will welcome him nicely. Miss Gilmore, would you mind sharing your notes with him from the last two weeks?"

I shook my head.

She took on with the lecture, just as I thought of a question.

**Hey, what are they going to do, now that they know you switched the cups?**

They can only suspend me.

**You're acting like that's a small thing**.

It_ is_ whenyou have about fifty of them already on your record.

**That's a lot. When are they going to suspend you though? You're obviously here.**

There's protocol with these types of things. It'll probably start at the beginning of next week.

**I'm sorry**.

Don't be. It was awesome what you did.

"Pay attention," we heard the teacher scold us. I looked at him and smiled before I started listening to the teacher.

When theird period was over, Jake started up another conversation.

"Tristan says you can play the guitar and sing."

I looked down. "Oh, I'm… n-not that good."

"Not according to what Tristan says. He told me me you should try out for that talent thing, show, whatever, for the end of the semester."

"Yeah, he's t-told me that b-before."

"Are you going to?"

I hugged my books a little tighter to my chest. "Nah, I d-don't think s-so."

"Why not?"

I shrugged as we walked into my, and apparently his new, fourth period math class. Embry was already sitting in front of Tristan, saving me a seat next to him, and I gladly took it, leaving Jake to sit next to Tristan.

The bell rang and the teacher passed out some packets. "Since we have a student joining the class," she motioned toward Jake, "I thought it'd be a good idea to review what we've learned since school started, as well as some things you learned last year. You can work in groups to help, but I only want to hear math talk."

But we all weren't listening to her by then, and everyone was moving their desks to sit with their friends. Jake, Tristan, Embry and I pulled our tables together, and started working.

A/N: Okay, only seven pages this time, but full of drama, kind of. I don't want to rush anything. That's why I didn't have Rory drive to Tristan's house that night. I think that's too cliché, anyway. My sister's wedding was just last weekend, and it was so pretty. She's so pretty. Anyways, review!


	6. Coffee

**Goodbye, My Almost Lover**

**Chapter 6. (If It's Not Too Late For) Coffee**

I couldn't believe it.

I got called out of class.

"Could you please send Lorelai Hayden to the Headmaster's office immediately, please?"

I was sweating bullets. I looked nervously over to Tristan.

His eyes were panicky, but he nodded, assuring me that I could get through it.

The rest of the class looked at me with wonder.

I put on my best _What's this all about?_ expression and shrugged.

On the way to the office, I kept hearing Tristan's words in my head. He told me they couldn't know it was me.

Could they?

When I got to the office, Headmaster Charleston was waiting for me. He greeted me with a smile and said, "I'm sorry I had to pull you out of your lecture."

Me too.

I just nodded.

He continued. "I'm sure you've heard about this incident with Jake Jackson?"

"Yes."

I thought I'd keep it as simple as I could. He couldn't get any information out of me.

"Our nurse on duty says that you were in the room during the incident."

"Yes."

"What were you doing there?"

"I had c-cut my finger op-pen. I was w-waiting for the nurse to… get back. She s-seemed busy with s-someone else."

"Yes, a Tristan DuGrey," he said, glancing down at the papers in front of him.

He stroked his grey-almost-white beard and leaned back in his chair.

"The reason I called you in here is because you were the only one in there about the time that Jake was called down for his test…"

I knew it was coming. He was about to suspend me. I knew it. I saw the pink slips on his desk.

He started again, "Did you see him with anyone? Don't be afraid to tell me."

What?

"I know that these troublemakers might have put pressure on you…"

_What_?

"They might have even threatened you physically…"

Oh my _god!_ He didn't suspect me at all. He wanted me to rat out the person that did this all.

"I'm s-sorry, Headmaster, I di-didn't see much. I was only in th-there for a little while. I h-hardly even saw Jake himself."

He ate it up.

"I'm s-sorry I c-c-couldn't help you out m-more."

"I wish you could, too."

I exited with a tiny nod.

_Lunchtime_…

"What did he _say_?" Tristan asked me, intrigued. We were on the far end of the courtyard, away from everything, just us.

"He th-thought Jake had th-threatened me not t-to… t-tell," I said, "He d-didn't even have a c-clue."

"Well, that's fortunate."

I had to admit that it _did_ calm me down. But I knew that until they found the culprit, I'd never be completely off the hook.

I told Tristan this.

"Don't worry about it. Just play it cool. You'll get off. Don't you worry a single bit."

I wondered about his complete assurance. Did he know something I didn't?

He must have.

But I was too chicken to ask.

"Y-you make me feel… different," I told him, quietly.

He looked at me with squinted eyes, trying to see through mine.

"Good different or bad different?"

I smiled softly. "Definitely good."

He mirrored my facial expression. "How do I make you feel different?"

I thought about it.

How _did_ he make me feel?

"I'm not sure." I wanted to find out. "But you make me w-want to… I d-don't know – You m-make me feel better, c-calmer."

His face got softer and he put his arm around me.

My heart nearly stopped.

I reached my hand up and entwined my fingers with his.

We looked right at each other's eyes, wondering what we were doing.

I could see the question in his eyes.

"I feel the same about you," he told me.

I was almost certain that that moment could have been the best kiss of my life.

But unfortunately, just when we were getting closer, we heard Jake shout, "Hey you two! I've been looking everywhere!"

We quickly detached and noticed we were still in the real world and made sure no one saw our proximity just moments before.

Jake caught up with us and sat down.

"God, I hate waiting in the line at the cafeteria. It's so effing long."

"I know what you mean, man," Tristan commented and ran a hand through his hair.

Was he regretting it?

Was I?

No. I would do anything to.

He's just so… intoxicating. I know it's probably a trap, but I want to drink more of him in.

Relish in the taste of pure Tristan.

But there was always something else, always something to distract or interrupt.

I wish we lived somewhere else.

After school, Tristan invited me over to his house.

"To study for the History test tomorrow," he said.

"Sure," I smiled, "I've j-just got to drop Embry home."

He ran another hand through his hair. "Don't tell your dad you'll be home for dinner."

I looked down. "I d-doubt he'd even n-notice."

He reached a hand under my chin and brought my face upward. "Who couldn't notice you?"

I blushed and motion to my car with my brother sitting in it.

He understood my signal.

"See you in a little while."

"What was _that_?" Embry asked on the way to our house.

I kept my eyes on the road. "What was what?"

My peripheral vision caught his mouth wide open. "You and _Tristan Dugrey_ and the amazingly obvious moment you two were having."

"I don't know w-what you're t-talking about."

"You're so oblivious. How could you not know that he is so into you?"

"He's out of my league."

"Obviously not if he's spending so much time with you. Aren't you just a _little_ bit flattered?"

"Ar-aren't you just a little bit _curious_?" I countered, then paused, sighing. "I'm n-not going to get my hopes up. If h-he liked me, he w-would have made a… m-move already."

"Has he tried?"

I hesitated too long for him not to notice.

"Oh my god!" he screamed and I covered one of my ears.

"God, Embry. D-don't be s-so effing loud."

"Oh my god!" he repeated, just as deafening. "_Tristan Dugrey_ made a move on you!"

I rolled my eyes. "S-stop saying his n-name like that."

"Oh my god. My sister and _Tristan Dugrey_. Oh my _god_."

"You've h-heard everything we've done. You sh-shouldn't be s-so s-surprised," I said as I pulled into our driveway.

"I don't know. It's all just hitting me now, I guess."

"Well, go be shocked inside and get out of my car."

"Why aren't you going to come in?"

"I h-have an… engagement."

He looked at me.

"T-Tristan invited me over… t-to study."

"_Alone_?"

"Well, he didn't mention anyone else…?"

"Oh my _god_!"

"God Embry! Shut up."

"What are you going to do at his _house_?"

"We're g-going to have a… huge _sex fest_ and co-conjure up our d-deep, evil s-spirits," I said, sarcasm dripping from my words.

"I'm being _serious_, here, Rory."

"You're being s-_stupid_, is what you're b-being. Now get out."

He opened the door and stepped out, but stuck his head back in. "Call me every hour, y'hear?"

The door closed and I glared at him, showing him my middle finger.

He had a disgusted face, but that soon turned into a smile as he waved me down the driveway.

I screamed back at him, "I… w-won't be h-home for dinner!"

He nodded and went into the house.

On the way to Tristan's house, my heart started beating fast.

My hands started sweating.

And my breaths-per-minute rapidly increased.

What _did_ he want to do at his house?

Was I prepared?

I had an extra set of clothes I keep for emergencies. A cute top and flattering jeans. Some sneakers. A blue hoodie.

As I remembered my overnight bag, I cursed, noticing I wouldn't have anywhere to change once I got to his house.

I then saw a small coffee shop that I've passed millions of times but never actually entered. I decided I would use their bathroom.

When I walked in, the last person I ever thought I'd see without a notably popular Chiltinite at his side caught my eye.

He smiled.

"Hey, Rory," he greeted, much too casually.

"Uhm, h-hello, uhm…" Oh god. What was his _name_?

"Rem," he finished, smiling with his braced teeth.

I actually noticed his face, then.

Pimples, black heads, and red blotches covered his forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin.

He had thick glasses over his ordinary brown eyes.

His hair was medium length, but slicked back.

He was still in the uniform jacket and slacks, but anyone could tell he was scrawny.

The typical awkward geek.

"H-how are y-you?" I squeaked, fumbling with the zipper-head on my bag.

"I'm alright. Just having a bit of coffee. Care to join me?"

I gave him a small smile. "No, I-I have t-to go s-soon. I j-just c-came to u-use the b-bathroom," I motioned to the bag on my shoulder.

"Well, when you come out, the least I can do is buy you a drink. What'll you have?"

I took a deep breath.

'The least' he could do? What had I done that he needed to repay me for?

Well, I figured, it was a free coffee.

Maybe he was just being nice, and I just _have _to read into everything.

"Just a p-plain c-coffee. Room f-for c-cream."

He smiled again, and his braces shined.

"Th-thank you."

"No problem."

I then proceeded to the bathroom, located a huge three yards from where I was standing, but it felt longer.

Was I being hit on?

No, I couldn't have been.

I dressed, dreading the awkward moment that I knew was coming.

The minute I would walk out there, he would probably be the most awkward thing, and since I was in the awkward situation as well, I would be awkward too.

But I couldn't just climb out of the window, could I?

So I went out the door.

But another surprise awaited me.

He had already left.

"Miss? _Miss_?" the counter girl tried to get my attention.

"Y-yes?" I shook my head of its confusion and focused on the present.

"A young man just paid for a cup of coffee for you."

I furrowed my eyebrows, not wanting to accept.

"I-it must h-have been for so-someone else…" I tried.

"He showed me a picture of you on his phone. Although you _were_ in a different outfit…"

I nodded. "A-alright, then."

She smiled, handing me the cup. "Here you go. Have a nice day."

I returned the pleasantry and filled the rest of the cup with half-and-half, and was on my way to Tristan's.

When he opened the door, he looked almost god-like.

He had a form-flattering tee on, with some kind of logo on it. He also had jeans that made him look as if he had the perfect amount of muscle. He was bare-footed.

"Checking me out, Mary?"

I blushed and looked down.

He laughed, and then moved to the side. "Come in. I had our cook start on some snacks."

"Wonderful. I'm almost starving."

He closed the door and ushered me to his living room.

"Your house is lovely."

"Thanks to my mother and her wonderful gene in picking out the right decorators." He sounded sarcastic.

"You don't like it?"

"It's fine. It's not my taste."

"Hm," I acknowledged, and sat down.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"Oh, I left my c-coffee out in my car. C-can I go get it really fast?"

"Of course. I'll get out my book and notes."

I nodded and exited.

When I came back, he was sipping some of what looked like coke through a straw.

"You stopped by a coffee store and didn't buy me any? I'm disappointed."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "A-actually, someone bought this for me."

"Oo, an admirer?" he joked, a gorgeous smile plastered on his face.

I took a deep breath. "Actually, one of your friends. Rem?"

His smile faded quickly, but he regained just a fast. "Oh, right. Let's start?" he said, motioning to the books.

"Is anything wrong, Tristan?"

"No, nothing's wrong, why do you ask?"

He wiped his hands on his jeans, one of my nervous habits.

He then ran one of those obviously sweaty hands through his hair. A trademark Dugrey move.

I smiled. "I don't know, you look a little perplexed and anxious. Relax."

I scooted closer to him and put my hand over his.

Both of our bodies tensed at the touch, but neither of us pulled away.

He moved closer to me, then. And I swear I could have died right there.

My breath hitched.

I felt some sweat present itself on the back of my neck.

His lips moved closer to my ear and he whispered:

"Have you noticed…"

I licked my lips.

"… that you haven't…"

I closed my eyes.

"… stuttered through about ninety percent of your words in the past fifteen minutes?"

I moved my head back to look at him, incredulously.

We stayed like that for several moments, close enough to touch, but both of us scared to.

I finally spoke up.

"I guess that's just the effect you have on me."

His eyes got so incredibly soft, that I could melt in them.

But he moved closer to me.

Just close enough.

I closed my eyes and hoped nothing would interrupt us now.

I moved a little closer, to let him know I wanted it too.

He took it and our lips touched.

It was the most incredible feeling of my whole life.

He put his arm around my waist to pull me closer. It worked.

He slipped his tongue between my lips and I let him.

So, I thought, this is what it feels like.

But then everything came crashing down, as thoughts started forming and rattling in my head.

I pulled away.

I saw his eyebrows furrow as he tried to come closer again.

I stood up.

"What the – " he started.

"I-I'm so s-sorry, I h-have to g-go."

With that, I grabbed my bag and left.

A/N: Okay, you hate me. But you know you love me as well. Review!


	7. So Nice, So Smart

**Goodbye, My Almost Lover**

**Chapter 7. So Nice, So Smart**

I hadn't talked to him in a week.

We had successfully been avoiding each other, which is becoming increasingly harder as we have quite a few classes together.

But he did make quite a public appearance a couple of days ago.

How I forgot he has a girlfriend is beyond me.

Well, _had_a girlfriend.

He broke up with her in front of everyone. There was a million of people there.

Then why did I feel like he was doing it just in front of _me_?

He wanted me to see it. I know it.

He wanted to send it to me as a sign or something.

I just wish I would know what to do with it.

It's almost like I'm stuck in this conversation and I don't know what to do about it.

I know he's waiting for me to take the next step, but god, I don't know what the next step should be.

I'm not ready for a boyfriend.

I'm not ready for anything but friends with him, I guess.

I don't know what's up his sleeve.

Yet.

I know this must sound completely stupid and juvenile. I don't normally do this.

I usually know what I want, and have steps already planned out to get there in reasonable increments.

So why does Tristan make me feel so… different?

He makes me want to – I don't know – scream and laugh all at the same time.

I just want to kiss him all over but slap him so he'll never show that stupid, sexy smirk of his again.

My heart races every time he's near, and when the phone rings or the doorbell sounds, I always hope it's him.

I must be crazy.

Because even though this is all going on, I know I can't be in a relationship with him.

I talked about it with Embry.

He thinks I'm not trying, that I never put myself out there enough.

"D-Don't you ever th-think this is a whole b-big joke? I mean, what w-would _he_want with s-someone like _me_?"

"You're so pessimistic. So what if it is? Isn't this what you wanted for, I don't know, since you were fourteen? For someone to see you for _you_ and not pre-judge, or whatever?" he countered.

There was a pause.

"Do you even r-remember what n-next week is?" I whispered.

He paused, thinking about it, and he finally realized it's been almost four months since school started. "Today, it's November…"

"Fifteenth," I whispered, finishing his sentence.

"Oh," he said with equally as soft a voice.

I bit my bottom lip. Kind of at the corner. Around this time of year, that spot becomes really chapped and cracked for this reason.

"You freak out around this time every year, you know. You don't attend school for the day; you just stay in your room…"

"I d-don't f-_freak out_," I told him, and then took a deep breath, "It's just… L-Look, Embry, y-you don't know, ok-kay? You d-don't remember her v-very m-much."

He looked down to his lap.

Embry started to say something, but we were interrupted by someone coming through the front door.

"I'm home," Dad yelled, and I saw him put his jacket in the hall closet.

I put my hair up into a messy bun quickly and stood up to leave.

Embry waved to my dad slightly.

I nodded to his presence and turned.

"Look, Rory, about the other night – " Dad started.

"It's fine," I said, still walking away.

"Rory, please, let's talk about this. Don't keep walking away, _please_."

I wanted to stop. I wanted to talk to him.

Well, no, I didn't want to. Just a little part of me wanted to.

But the larger part overcame and kept its ground.

I kept walking.

"There's nothing to talk about," I threw over my shoulder as I walked up the stairs and slammed my door shut.

Before you ask, I _do_ kind of feel bad for my dad.

I mean, it's probably not easy being hated by one of your children.

Okay, no, I don't hate him.

I just don't think that I can ever… _forgive _him.

I haven't told anyone.

I also haven't told anyone that I signed up for the stupid talent show thing.

It's in four weeks.

I haven't figured out what I'm playing yet.

I have a few songs picked out, and have been practicing them, but I can't help feeling sick to my stomach.

So many people are going to be looking at me.

At _me_.

I don't think I can handle that sort of pressure.

Maybe I should just withdraw my name.

Despite my hesitance, I picked up my guitar and started playing.

_Five days later_…

Okay, so just a few moments ago, I opened my locker.

You could never guess what was sitting it in for me.

Okay, maybe you could.

A note from Tristan.

From_Tristan_.

It stood next to a tall Starbucks coffee and doughnut. Glazed. Just like I like it.

Now my heart it beating faster as I used my fingers successfully to open the letter.

It read:

'Because I still care.

Tristan'

What does that even _mean_?!

Ugh.

I couldn't even think about it, because there was a test in my first period and I just couldn't spare one thought on anything else.

Not that that worked.

All throughout the test, it was Tristan on my mind, not the curriculum.

I did alright on the test (I had studied all night, so I had the stuff pretty under my belt), but for the rest of the day, I couldn't stop thinking of him.

And when I remembered want the next day was, my heart felt like it was down in my stomach. I could hardly breathe.

Everything is becoming so much heavier all of the sudden, and I don't know if I can deal with it all alone.

I went to bed that night, really trying to sleep through the whole next day.

My father calls me in sick this day. He doesn't go to work either. He usually just goes out doing god-knows-what and we don't ask questions about what the other has done.

And this year is going to be no exception. Not that I would ask him anyway.

We haven't really talked in about three weeks.

But as soon as I went to sleep, I woke up.

Only, three hours went by. It was two o'clock. AM.

Damn it.

It's going to be one long day.

I couldn't go back to sleep.

My eyes kept open and kept looking at the white piece of notebook paper, open, as his name stared me in the face.

I sighed, talking to no one in particular, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

I threw my covers off myself, grabbing the jeans I wore the previous day and put them on, under my _extra _oversized t-shirt.

"I can't_believe_ I'm doing this."

I grabbed my keys, closing my door and exiting the house, and then getting in my car.

It surprisingly only took a mere three minutes and forty-five seconds to get to his house.

I parked.

Before I knew it, I was inside.

I walked up his stairs slowly, cautiously, not knowing what I would do once my feet led me to the place where I wanted to go.

The door was closed, so I reached out and turned the knob.

This was it. There was no going back.

I pushed it open.

And there he was. His sleeping form lying motionless in the darkness.

I took two steps in and shut the door, closing off all light to the quiet room.

I saw a desk with a chair right across from his bed, and moved to sit on it. I could see his every move.

Or lack of moves, that is.

I watched his chest rise and fall routinely, unhurriedly.

Then, I found myself on the floor, crawling closer to the white comforter clad bed, to him.

I sat down with my back to the side, and rested my head on top of the mattress. I then noticed his hand casually hanging off the side of the bed.

Moving my arm hesitatingly upward, I entwined my fingers with his, playing with the feeling of my skin once again on him.

I sensed him awaken and then realize what scene was set up before him.

He sat up, swinging his legs over and next to me as he kept contact with my hand.

I heard him sigh. "I've missed you," he whispered.

I looked up and saw that my saddened eyes mirrored his.

"I missed you, too, Tristan," I replied.

He motioned with a little nod of his head for me to get on the bed with him.

"You tired?"

I smiled slightly and nodded, standing to remove my jeans while he laid back on the bed.

He opened the blankets, inviting me in, and only then did I realize that he was only in his boxers.

I got in, however, and let his arms wrap around me. We were both on our sides, my back touching his stomach.

"I've, uh, never been in bed with someone else," I told him.

"You get used to it," I felt his breath on my neck.

I knew I was shaking.

I just wished that he didn't realize.

No such luck.

"Just relax, Rory. I'm not going to try anything."

I laughed softly, still nervous.

Never in a million years would I believe that I'd be in Tristan DuGrey's bed.

"Uhm, Rory?" I heard him ask.

"Yeah?" I whispered.

He paused, but then asked the obvious question, "What are you doing here?"

I tensed up, even though he could probably feel every move I made.

"I just…" I hesitated. "I just needed to not be alone today."

I felt him pull me closer, if possible.

Then, with the unusual feeling of security, I fell into my deep slumber.

-

I woke to sunlight filling the room.

I pushed myself up with my arms so that I was sitting up.

In the middle of a yawn and a stretch, Tristan walked in, holding a mug of steaming coffee.

He sat next to me, handing me the liquid.

"I called Embry, and he said he got your dad to call you in sick, and I informed the school that I was sick as well. So, we're home free for the day."

I smiled, and took a sip.

Tristan then took my cup and set it on the side table.

He reached out his palm and cupped my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into it.

I knew it was coming, though.

The Talk.

"So," he said, and I knew he was trying his hardest to be as sweet as can be. "What's up?"

Embarrassment and nerves finally seeped into my bones.

"Nothing," I squeaked out.

He narrowed his eyes. "How did you get into my house last night?"

I looked down and smiled faintly. "I… persuaded your cook that I wasn't a thief or a stalker."

He chuckled a bit, putting his arm around me.

"What's going on, Rory?" he asked quietly, and I knew I couldn't dodge his question.

I looked up in his eyes, and I knew he could see the tears rimming my eyes.

"It's just… uhm…" my breathing quickened as I thought of a way to word it. "My mom died today."

He closed his eyes and he pulled me closer, and only then, did I let the tears fall.

And he held me.

I felt safe. For one of the only times of my life.

When I calmed down a bit, he asked the inevitable question, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I thought about that for a little bit.

_Did_ I want to talk about it?

"No," I whispered. "Not yet."

He nodded, and then grabbed my hand.

"Want to have some breakfast? Dahlia's mixing up some stuff for us…?"

I smiled softly. "Do you think I can take a shower before?"

"Of course. She's not even done yet, so that's totally fine."

"Alright, I'm just going to go out to my car to get my extra clothes."

His eyes beamed. "Knew for a fact I wouldn't throw you out, did you?"

I laughed. "No, actually, you cocky bastard," I teased, "I happen to keep a bag with emergency clothes just in case."

He let out a chuckle, but then reached behind himself. I didn't realize what he was doing until my face came in contact with something hard, yet very soft.

I grabbed the pillow out of his hand and hit him back with it.

"Oh, you're going to get it!" he yelled at me as he took another pillow.

-

I walked into the kitchen, still towel drying my hair a bit.

Tristan smiled at my presence as he walked up to me and embraced me.

"Rory, this is our cook, Dahlia, but I think you two already met this morning…?" he joked.

I blushed and shook her hand. "Thanks for that, by the way, ma'am."

"Oh, don't worry about that, honey. I'm here to serve. And right now, I happen to be serving coffee and French toast."

My eyes brightened. "My favorite."

I looked over at Tristan who was also smiling. "Yeah, I heard you mention it a time or two."

And let me tell you, that French toast was _delicious_.

Also, the small talk Tristan and I had during the bites wasn't too bad either.

After the breakfast, we retired to his room once again.

"You want to watch a movie or something?"

I looked around. The bed was already made, and everything was picked up.

"Where are my clothes from last night?" I asked.

"The maid probably put them in the washing machine. Don't worry about it."

I smiled back at him, mirroring his expression.

"So?" he asked. "Do you?" he pointed to the TV right in front of the bed.

"I, um," I paused. "I don't have any comfortable clothes. Only these jeans," I said, looking down

He stopped moving, looking me over. "I could, uh, loan you some clothes. I have some pajama shorts, and a shirt. I mean, it's not much, but – "

I took his hand in mine, soothing him. "Okay."

He smiled. "I wish you could just change back to what you were wearing this morning. Now _that_," he paused, whistling, "was hot."

I blushed.

He picked up my face in his hands.

I would be lying if I said I didn't want him to kiss me.

He came within millimeters of my lips, but then changed direction and kissed my cheek.

I bet he caught the look of confusion on my face because he said it.

"We need to talk about what happened the other week."

I closed my eyes and sighed.

"We_kissed_, Rory. And you ran away."

I opened my eyes, but looked anywhere but at him.

"I'm s-sorry, Tristan. I guess… I don't know what happened. I just remember thinking… 'Oh my god. I'm kissing the most popular guy in school.'"

"You were scared," he said, "I understand."

"I don't even kn-know if that's the reason. It was like all these things flashed through my mind. I didn't know what that kiss entailed."

"You don't want anything to come from it? I mean, I thought we had a pretty good connection."

I sighed, frustrated at myself for not knowing how to word what I wanted to say. "Tristan, you know as well as I do, that I'm not ready for a relationship."

He nodded, hesitantly, "Rory, if this is about the poem, I mean, it wasn't – "

Okay, confusion. "Poem?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. "What poem?"

I saw his eyes first show disbelief, then surprise. "You never read the poem?"

I shook my head. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

He cursed under his breath.

"Tristan, what poem?" I demanded.

He stepped back away from me. "Nothing. Just forget I said anything. Um…" he walked over to his closet and pulled some articles of clothing.

"Here," he said, giving me the shorts and shirt.

"Uhm, thanks…" I said, awkwardly, as I sneaked off to the bathroom.

When I finished dressing and primping myself in front of the mirror, I exited to him already lying on the bed.

God, he looked gorgeous.

When he saw me, I saw him stare, and I knew he was thinking something along the same lines about _me_. I admit, I kind of kicked it up a notch, rolling up the shorts so they stopped high on my thighs. I'm just so glad that I shaved my legs yesterday, so they were still smooth for this moment when I would snuggle up to him.

Snuggle up to _Tristan Dugrey_…!

I tiptoed up to him, ready to tell him the thing I've wanted to.

The thing I've waited for two weeks to tell.

I crawled onto the bed, aware of every limb that was moving.

Tristan's eyes moved with me as I came toward him, stopping right when I got to him, debating whether or not to do it.

Then I thought: What the hell?

"So, before, you didn't even let me finish," I told him.

I scooted closer, and watched as his eyes surveyed my body.

"Even though I am not ready for a _relationship_-relationship," I swung one leg over his torso, so I was strattling his waist, "please tell me why I _cannot_ stop thinking about that kiss."

He scooted up, and then sat up, so I was on his lap.

"You don't know what you're doing, Rory."

"I know exactly what I'm doing, Tristan." Then my voice fell softer. "I felt something that night. I don't want to give that up, just yet."

Tristan's hands ran over my bare thighs, and I ran my fingers through his hair.

I heard him sign and that pushed me over the edge.

I lowered my lips to his, and he immediately reacted to the touch. He started licking my lower lip, silently asking me for entrance to my mouth, and I accepted.

The kiss deepened immensely and his arms went around my back and mine around his neck, both of us pulling each other closer.

all of a sudden, Tristan flipped me around so that he was on top of me, as he ran his hands up and down the side of my body.

He ended the kiss and moved onto biting and sucking on my neck, which caused me to arch my back and move however closer to him as I could, feeling every bit I could.

I moved a hand underneath his shirt, feeling the toning of his back, and then just took off his shirt altogether, seeing his abs and chest, all amazingly built perfectly.

Tristan then ran his own hand underneath the shirt that I was wearing, grazing his fingers on my stomach.

"Mmm," I sighed, eyes closed, but suddenly, I didn't feel pressure on my body anymore, no warmth.

My eyes flew open, and I immediately hugged my legs to my chest.

"What's_wrong_?" I asked, quickly, feeling intensely embarrassed, watching him on the other side of the bed, just looking at me.

His eyes blinked and then he shook his head, looking down. "You don't want to do this now," he said, calmly.

_Too_ calmly, in my opinion.

"No, Tristan, I _do_. Come_on_," I tried to assure him.

"Rory, if we do this now, you're just going to be doing it to cover up your pain. Your first time… I want it to be the only thing in your head at the time. Okay? Do you really want this now?"

I moved my head back, making sense of his words.

And then I realized that he was right: I _didn't_ want this today.

I furrowed my eyebrows, and pouted my lips. "I'm sorry."

He smiled nicely. "Don't be sorry."

But I couldn't help it. Tears came up and out of my eyes.

"Aw, honey," he whispered as he took me in his arms yet again.

Whimpered sorry's and indistinguishable apologies were mumbled into his bare chest as he soothed me.

When I calmed down, he pulled back.

"Are you alright?"

I pouted my lips again. "I just wish I had my guitar."

His eyes beamed as he said excitedly, "I have a guitar."

I laughed. "What? You never mentioned you played."

"I've never picked it up. My parents just got it for me one Christmas years ago." He got up. "Hold on."

Tristan left the room and came back quickly, sure enough, with the most beautiful acoustic guitar I've ever seen.

"Tristan?" I asked, not taking my eyes off of it.

"What, Mary?"

"I-I-I can't play that. It's too nice…"

He laughed.

Then he handed it to me.

The feeling of it in my hands was enough to overcome that ache in my core from the previous ten minutes.

I had to tune it a little, because not being played can have a serious effect on guitar strings.

But soon, the strap was over my shoulder and I was strumming the strings.

"Play something for me," he asked.

I smiled, knowing exactly what was needed to say.

"'_I was as quiet as a mouse, when I snuck into your house_,'" I started and heard him laugh, and I followed him, but then went on with the song.

A/N: Longest chapter so far. Review!


	8. Perfect Situation

**Goodbye, My Almost Lover**

**Chapter 8. **Perfect Situation

"Yes! There's your basic C chord," I told him, smiling.

He chuckled a little bit, and then looked up at me.

"This is beyond cool," Tristan said, smiling big.

I laughed, and the proceeded to move his fingers into another position.

"Okay, now strum."

He did, but it didn't sound right at all.

He sighed.

"You have to remember to keep only your fingertips touching the strings. Don't get lazy and relax, or the rest of your fingers are going to touch the strings, and you go flat," I corrected.

"Right," he said, and then did as I said and he strummed once more.

I smiled.

"That's an E."

He smiled again at me, but looked at me the way someone shouldn't.

I blushed.

"Thanks a lot, Rory. This is a lot more work than I thought, but it's definitely worth it. Maybe I'll get my own teacher, now. Put this baby to work more often," he joked, tapping on the side of the guitar.

I laughed. God, he's so handsome.

He was wearing jeans and a loose t-shirt, and that still showed off his wonderful body.

Why the hell was he so _perfect_?

I leaned closer and kissed him chastely, blushing afterwards.

He put his guitar down nicely, careful not to hurt it.

"What do you want to do?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "I'm up for anything."

--

How can a day tainted with something so bad, end so wonderfully?

Tristan took me to the miniature golf center, to an ice-cream parlor, and out to dinner.

Easily one of the most fun days of my life.

I just couldn't believe it. Being with Tristan was completely different than anything I could imagine.

He was so different than anybody I've ever met.

When I finally got home around ten or so, Embry was in my room waiting for me.

He wore a small smile. "How was your day?"

I blushed a little bit. "R-r-really amaz-zing. Really."

"I'm glad."

An awkward quiet filled the room.

"Wh-What do y-you need?" I asked.

"I put your homework on your desk," he said, nodding toward it.

I nodded too. "Cool."

He took a deep breath. "There's rumors going around school, Rory. Saying that Tristan's just using you. Wants to see how far he can get, that sort of thing."

I narrowed my eyes. "I th-thought you w-were s-s-so pro-me-and-him."

"Hey, I'm not saying anything about them. I'm just passing it on. Maybe try to be careful."

I rolled my eyes. "C-c-can you p-please s-stop changing your m-mind every f-five s-s-seconds?"

"I'm not trying to be a kill-joy here, Rory," he said, standing up. "I do like him. Just something feels off here."

I was the one to take a deep breath this time. "Okay, well, you s-s-said it. P-please go, so I can s-sleep."

He nodded, starting to walk out. When he got to my door, he stopped and turned back to me. "For what it's worth, he must be doing something great. I've never seen you glow this much."

And then he left and shut the door.

Rumors?

I mean, it's high school, right? These things were supposed to happen, yeah?

People were supposed to talk about other people and not give a shit about what it means to the actual person. That was supposed to happen, right?

Right when I buried my head in my hands, my phone vibrated.

I smiled when I saw the message.

Tristan: _Hey, you get home safe?_

I texted him back. **Of course. I'm a safe driver, unlike you. I thought I was going to die on the way to the community center and never beat you at that golf game.**

Tristan: _Oh, please. You won by three points._

Me: **I still get bragging rights. :P**

_Hah. I guess. What're you up to?_

**Just laying on my bed. **

_Alright. I'll let you get to sleep. I had a lot of fun today._

**Me too. You don't even know. Goodnight.**

--

I walked into school, quietly, just as all the other days. But something was different.

People were glaring, staring, and gawking at me.

Uncomfortable could not even begin to describe what I was feeling.

I immediately took Jake by the arm and pulled him over to get some privacy.

"What i-is going o-_on_?"

I shrugged, and looked down.

"C-come… _on_, Jake. I kn-know you know m-m-more than that. T-tell me."

"Rory, it doesn't even matter. I mean, people are just making a bigger deal out of it than it really is. Honest. I mean, everyone knows you have become really close, and now you're ditching school with him, and they're just looking too far into it. Really."

"S-so there _are…_ r-r-rumors."

He chuckled. "_Oh_ yeah. Especially since Tris and Emily _just_ broke up."

Great. So now I'm the home-wrecker.

Apparently, I said that out loud. Jake replied with, "Well, I don't know. I don't think of you that way. I mean, to them… you guys make no sense. But to me… to me you guys make… sense. I don't know."

I took a deep breath.

"Tristan likes you, Rory. Honest. It's not a game anymore."

I narrowed my eyes. "Anymore?"

He looked around. "Well, I mean, you know, Tristan has a reputation of using girls and stuff. I just… meant that… well, he wasn't doing that to you… You know? Well, I got to get to class."

And he left me still wondering how everything went to hell in one day.

A/N: So, short short short chapter due to just wanting to get this out there so you guys know I haven't completely given up. I do have an outline, but some time has to go by in the story and progress so I can make some stuff happen. So, review. I'm so glad to be back!


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